


One Shot- Silver and Crimson

by Flyingbirdietimmy



Series: A Spectrum of Colours [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7736437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyingbirdietimmy/pseuds/Flyingbirdietimmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a run in with the Joker, Damian begins to question his worth, and turns to self harm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Shot- Silver and Crimson

The sickly pale white skin and smile forced by the work of bungee cords that pierced his cheeks made Damian reel in disgust, though the effect was kind of lost as he was strung up by his arms with rusty old chains, but the intent was definitely there. The Joker just cackled at the young vigilante's reaction. "Oh Batbrat, you will be the undoing of your father. Perhaps I'll just save you all the trouble and kill you right here like I did with... I think it was Brat number 2... Ah well. Memory is not what it used to be at my old age."  
The crazy criminal who had previously been pacing a good couple of feet away redirected his path towards Damian who growled a warning. "And /your/ undoing was thinking this will hold me! When I get free I will /kill/ you!"  
The Joker gave him a look suggesting he pitied the boy, but it was clearly fake. He traced a dry finger along Damian's cheek that made him inwardly shudder. Damian tried to bite him, but missed by a mere fraction of a second. A swift kick followed but was easily dodged by the tall man. "So delusional." He clucked his tongue and walked around to his backside where he delivered a kick of his own to Damian's back. Damian only grunted. "I'm doing you all a favour." Damian twisted his head to look at him, but regretted it when he received a hit to the jaw. "Even your own comrades call you 'Demon spawn'. What does that tell you? How do you think you are helping?" Each statement was followed by another strike, but Damian refused to acknowledge the blows. He needed to save his strength for the moment the Joker got too close. "You create mess after mess. You always get in the way. As surely as I am looney, you are a nuisance! In fact, you might be as bad as I am!"  
Damian snarled and twisted to look Joker in the eye, pupils pinpricks of fury. "That's not true! I will never be as bad as you! I don't set bombs to kill random people for 'fun'! I don't poison their minds or beat up helpless little boys!"  
His echoing cackles infuriated Damian. "I admit, the bombs are more a me thing. But do you deny finding pleasure in death?" Damian winced at that. Taking his silence as confirmation, Joker continued. "You've convinced your favourites that you're not so bad. But we both know the truth don't we?"  
"No! I'm skilled! I was trained from the earliest possible point! I've redirected my skills to save lives! I'm changing!" Damian yelled, but he couldn't hide the edge of uncertainty that lingered in his tone.  
"Is that was you tell yourself to help you sleep with the screams of your victims?"  
Damian clenched his teeth together. He had no response for that because the Joker had hit the nail on the hammer. "What makes you think you know me?" He made his time low and threatening.  
"I've seen it all! Sanity is what holds everyone back! I knew Bats could be better if he learned to let go. I intend to help him with that." Joker removed a gun and pointed it at Damian's chest. He grinned at the fear that flickered across the young boy's face, eyes wide, blood draining from his face, but he was quick to mask his emotions. Instead he fixed him with a glare as his heart erratically jumped. Feeling the need to reestablish his stance, he spit in the Joker's direction, daring him to do it. "Demons belong in hell. Allow me to return you to your home." Joker burst out laughing as the safety clicked off. Damian was trembling slightly, but he hoped it wasn't noticeable. This was the end.  
"No!" And there it was. The bang of the gun and a blur of black as Batman seemly appeared out of nowhere to take the hit.  
Damian's eyes widened once more as the figure hit the ground, the bullet having seemed to strike a weak spot of the armour. "FATHER!" Damian cried out, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt that it was all his fault. When he stumbled to his feet, Damian felt a temporary relief that at least the wound wasn't instantly fatal. He would rather die than be the cause of it, though based on the way his father was clutching his side, it wasn't light either.  
The next few moments were a whirlwind of activity. A few well placed batarangs had Damian free and dropping to the ground on all fours. He rubbed his wrists as Nightwing appeared and ushered him away from the battle. He wanted to go fight with Batman, but those remained as thoughts with intent. His body was too dazed to respond and resist, and there was also the lingering words 'you always get in the way' and 'you are a nuisance'. Those combined put him in a state of complacency.  
Nightwing left Damian outside, well away from the fight on a rooftop before he rushed back to help Batman. Damian sat down and swung his legs over the side, letting them kick the faded brick wall below. He blocked out any thoughts and instead watched his feet. In a matter of minutes Joker was apprehended and Nightwing had returned for Damian with the task of returning him to the manor. Alfred applied ice to the bruises that formed. "Master Damian, are you alright? You don't seem quite yourself."  
"I'm fine!" Damian snapped, waving him away. "Is my father alright?!"  
Bruce walked into the room, covering it with a few large strides. He appeared to walk as though uninjured. That was a good sign. "Just a nick Dami. Nothing to worry about." He assured Damian with a chuckle.  
Damian gave him a curt nod. "Very well. I shall retire to my room for the remainder of the evening. I am in much need of a rest."  
~~~  
A large circle of people stood around him, black, twisted branches peeking up behind them, smokey skies blotting out the sun. The peoples faces were void of feature, and their bodies were all the same, nothing that stood out or that he could really put a finger on. With an eerie unison of their flat, hollow voices they began to speak, almost as if it were a chant or list of crimes. "Demon spawn. Product of rape. Unwanted child. You are vile, disgusting, and worthless. Why are you still here? Why are you in existence? You don't deserve to breath our air. You are a murderer, a monster, and atrocity. The world would be so much better without you."  
As they spoke their words, black and tiny, took on a physical state and circled around him. Damian crossed his arms. "Hah!" With a smirk he brushed them aside, causing them to dissipate. "This isn't real. You think your words are hurting me, but they aren't."  
As if in response a few of them groaned and hunched over. They began clawing at their faces, ripping off skin that revealed their true identities. Their bodies bubbled and morphed to match the build to the person. They still spoke, but their tones changed, words taking on personality. "Not real." Damian stated, closing his eyes, tone with a lot less conviction.  
A thomp of a footstep caused Damian to peek. He focused on the zombie like Nightwing who seemed to be adjusting to his proper stance at an alarming rate. Slowly he walked closer, looking Damian straight in the eye. "Child, I have nothing but pity for you. If you died, well I wouldn't be devastated. You are dispensable." To see the voices that haunted him put to his face, well Damian knew it wasn't real, but it was beginning to feel real, and these words stung.  
Damian's attention shifted to his father. "You are a huge disappointment. I don't want anything to do with you, but for the sake of appearances I'm obligated to let you stay. You are an irksome child who never listens and your antics cost me precious time and resources! You have skills, but you fail to use them in an appropriate manner! Why can't you be more like Dick? Or Jason? Or Tim? I hate you."  
Damian couldn't take it anymore. He slammed his hands over his ears and screamed. At that moment he woke up, bedsheets knotted around him that he quickly worked to free himself from. He dashed to the bathroom and harshly yanked open a drawer. He blindly shoved his hand in and fumbled around for the switch blade he kept stashed there. With a shaky hand he removed it and flicked it open.  
Damian stared at his reflection in the mirror, a glint of light flashing off the blade that hovered above his exposed forearm. It was a blade his father had given him, and it was kind of sickening, even to him, that it should be used for this purpose. But then again, Bruce didn't actually care about him, and it was his father's (or a figment of his father's) voice that drove him to this. He pretended he cared, and it could actually be quite convincing at times, but it was all a facade. If he only had the courage to finish the job.... Well his father could actually have one instance of pride in his horrible plague to the world son.

Damian had only done this a few times before, and naturally no one had noticed. He was always recovering from an injury due to his occupation so there was no need for questions. Not that they even cared about anything more than than reputation when it came to him. With that final thought he pressed the sharp tip into his skin, hissing as he pulled it along to create a shallow laceration. Crimson instantly appeared and it commanded his attention. It bloated until it formed a drop that subsequently turned into a trickle. He shifted his arm and held it over the polished white sink. With deep, morbid fascination he watched the blood drip until he finally forces himself to tear his gaze away.  
The position of the cut proved to be difficult to patch up with one hand, but he didn't dare ask for help. It wasn't the first time he had fixed a tough wound by himself, and he doubted it would be the last. Someone would surely ask how he cut himself while sleeping if he went for help, and none of the reasons from his mental list seemed convincing enough to risk it. It matters little anyways.  
Damian's eyes met the vivid emerald of his reflection's iris. The harsh accusation that he was weak and shouldn't have to resort to this for something so inconsequential as insecurity silently shouted at him. It only made him want to do it again. Weakness. Another reason he shouldn't be here. He looked away. He was ashamed, and it felt so wrong... But something inside drove him to do it. Physical pain he knew how to handle. It kept the voices at bay which allowed him to conceal his internal conflicts. Everyday he wore his facade of strength and made one less burden for those around him to deal with.  
There were probably more effective ways to deal with this, like counselling, but he was too proud for that. In time he was sure he would overcome the nagging thoughts inside, and then he would stop. This was only a phase. Right?  
~~~

The days slowly passed and Damian found himself in a gradual downward spiral. He would begrudgingly attend school, return to his room as soon as he was through the door, and remain there until it was time for patrol or a mission. As soon as that was finished he would go directly back to his room, snapping at anyone who dared approach.  
Damian's thoughts began to run rampant. Cutting became his daily ritual, and slowly he began to slice deeper, as the lighter cuts failed to deliver enough pain. The thoughts became his obsession, and as even more days passed, he stopped going on patrol.  
Dick was the first to notice his odd behaviour. He mentioned it offhandedly to Bruce and Alfred, albeit he was growing to be deeply concerned. He thought Damian might just want some alone time, so he let him be for a few days before he marched up to his room and knocked on the door. "Dami!"  
There was a pause and a creaking of the bed as if the young boy were shifting. "What?" Came Damian's muffled half-hearted response.  
"Can I come in?" Dick asked hopefully.  
"No."  
"Too bad. I'm coming in anyways!" Dick stated matter-of-factly as he set to work picking the lock.  
Damian sighed as the door swung open. "What's the point of asking if you have no intention of listening to my answer?"  
Dick shrugged and plopped down beside Damian on the bed. "I listened to your answer, but I didn't like it. Now you better tell me what has you so in the doldrums or I'm never going to leave."  
Damian rolled his eyes and crosses his arms. "I was just thinking."  
"About?" Dick pressed.  
"None of your concern."  
Dick ran a hand through his hair, unsure what exactly he should do. "Well if you aren't going to tell me, will you at least let me take you out of the house? It's really not good to be alone for so long, and I miss my little brother."  
Seeing as that was the only way to get rid of him, Damian decided to agree. "Fine. But only for a little bit."  
Dick grabbed Damian's arm and jumped up. Damian winced slightly and Dick gave him a questioning look. "Are you okay Dami? Are you sick? Is that why you've been in here?"  
Damian snatched his arm away. "Yeah. I haven't been feeling up to par as of late. Now let's go while I'm feeling up for it."  
Dick looked a little dubious. "Can I see your arm Dami?"  
Damian growled and took a step back. "No."  
"Damian," Began the older boy in a warning tone. "Let me see your arm." Before Damian could protest he snatched Damian's arm. The young boy struggled, trying to pull his arm free from Dick's grasp. This forced Dick to hold on tighter, squeezing the arm and causing Damian to yelp. He wasn't fast enough to stop Dick from pulling up his sleeve. Dick was silent for a moment, taking in the numerous lines that appears to be quite uniform and fresh. "You haven't been out in quite a few days..." Dick observed slowly. "These are fresh. Tell me the truth, Damian. Where did you get these?"  
Damian snatched his arm back, now met with no resistance from Dick. He pulled the sleeve back down, trying to come up with a good explanation. Telling a falsehood wouldn't help him here. It was clear he was the culprit, and it would come out eventually even if he could come up with a story that sounded realistic. After all, this was a family of vigilante detectives. "I did it." The hurt in Dick's eyes forced him to avert his gaze, shame filling him and tears pricking his eyes. "I did it, Grayson!" He repeated.  
"Why?" It was a simple question, but it was filled with so much more. Damian didn't even know where to begin, and he didn't think he could say the entirety of it. He would have to omit parts.  
"Tt." Damian wrapped his arms around himself and closed his eyes, a tear trickled down his cheek as he battled the lump that had formed in his throat. "I've always been rather... insecure. I've felt as though I don't belong... After Joker captured me... He brought tangible voice to some of my concerns. I was encumbered by his draconian statements. Relentlessly they bombarded me to the point I was driven to do something! I exchanged my internal agony for physical harm, something I could control, something I knew how to handle."  
Dick's eyes widened and he pulled Damian into a hug. 'He doesn't really care.' Damian's mind persisted. Damian tensed and withdrew, but his brother refused to allow him to get very far before he dragged him back into the hug. "Damian... You have to tell me what you are thinking about. It's important to refute those points. Already this has gone on for too long."  
Damian clenched his teeth and closed his eyes once more. "I can't- It's all true!" He jerked away from Dick and made a break for the door. Dick dived after him, but was a little too slow. Damian was already down the hallway and skidding into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it. Dick could easily break in, as he had proven with his room, so Damian constructed a makeshift barricade.  
Damian's heart pounded, and despite how careful he was being, his hands shook wildly as he withdrew the blade. Dick banged on the door with such force it almost seemed the door would crack. "Damian let me in now!"  
Damian held the blade over his arm, tremors surging through his limbs. "You really want to know what I've been thinking?" He couldn't hide how shaky his voice was.  
"Damian! Please come out!" Dick pleaded.  
Damian took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. With a deadpan voice he started speaking again. "Demon spawn." He grunted as he made a quick and light cut. "Burden." About and inch below the previous he made another, slightly deeper cut.  
Dick frantically beat the door, having guess what he was up to. "No Dami! You aren't a demon spawn! You aren't a burden! You have to come out!"  
Damian ignored him and continued with a cold and detached voice. Blood seeped from the gashes he created. It bright red pooled on the floor at his feet, but he didn't care this time. This was it. To guarantee he wouldn't survive he had saved the last two, the most depreciative words, for his wrists. Slick blood made it difficult to see exactly where he needed to make the incision. "Unloved." He was growing dizzy, and he struggled to keep his balance. He fumbled with the knife, having a hard time making his fingers close around the handle. Then he made the last cut. "Worthless." With that he collapsed onto the ground, the knife clattering on the ground beside him. Dick's voice grew distant until it ceased altogether.  
~~~  
Dick paced nervously in the hall of the hospital. "This is all my fault. All my fault. I should've been faster! Hell, I should have talked to him when I first noticed! Now he might die and it's all my fault!"  
Bruce shook his head. "We are all to blame. I should have talked to him the moment he stopped going on patrol."  
Tim shifted uncomfortably, but remained silent, mentally reprimanding himself. Jason's foot tapped impatiently. The doctor finally arrived, armed with a clipboard. "We've managed to stabilize him, and his chances of survival are high. He lost a lot of blood, but due to your measures taken before hand, and how quickly you got him here, he should be fine."  
"Thank you. Can we see him?" Bruce asked.  
The doctor examined them with a dubious expression. "You are all his family?"  
"Yes!" Exclaimed Dick. "Please! I need to see my little brother! We've been here for hours!"  
The doctor nodded and led them to Damian's room. Damian looked up, a little surprised to see them all there, but once more ashamed of what he'd done, he looked away. Dick hurried to his side and hugged him. "Oh Dami! Thank god you are alright!"  
Damian didn't respond. Dick forced Damian to look at him. "Damian, you need to stop. Don't tell yourself you are worthless. Don't tell yourself you are unloved. We waited here for hours upon hours just to hear if there was a chance you would wake up again. That stunt you pulled was foolish. All those lies you've made yourself believe almost cost us one of the most precious things in our lives. You." The others nodded their agreement and gathered around him. "You are a blessing. You've let me see who you are underneath. And this isn't you. It deeply hurts that you would ever think my love for you was disingenuous. And..." Dick broke down in tears and hugged Damian tighter. "Please promise me you'll never do that again! I love you so much!"  
Damian sighed and hugged Dick back. "Okay. I won't." The nagging voices didn't have the same power over him right now. They were easy to brush aside as Damian was overwhelmed by a sense of family. He gently tugged on his father's sleeve, indicating he wanted him to join the hug, which he did without hesitation. Jason joined in too, and Tim for a brief moment. Tim then turned away, troubled. He was one of the worst offenders. Damian noticed him, and with a surge of compassion and brief fear that Tim might do something similar, he pulled Tim back into the hug. "It's not your fault, Tim. This was all me for letting my fears control me. I'm sorry I caused you all so much grief."

"It's alright Damian. Know that we love you and we will help you through this."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)  
> If you have any suggestions for plots I'm always open to hearing ideas.


End file.
